


Trying Not To Love You

by wildflowersinthemeadow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Consensual Incest, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, No Sexual Content, Slash, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29582532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildflowersinthemeadow/pseuds/wildflowersinthemeadow
Summary: set during THAT scene in "Playthings". Sam is needy and Dean is helpless.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 26





	Trying Not To Love You

**Author's Note:**

> I do not support any kind of incest in real life. But that's Sam and Dean and it's fictional anyway. Obviously I changed the scene a little bit from what was shown. The title is from the song of the same name by Nickelback which I have been listening to on repeat and which inspired me to this little story. enjoy!

"Dean, please … "

Dean could not believe what he just heard. Kill Sam if there ever … just the thought alone was impossible. He stared down at his little brother, unable to say anything.

Suddenly, Sam looked at him with this … incredible need. In a matter of a second, the situation shifted. Sam placed his hands on Dean's face. Sam's hands wandered to the back of Dean's neck. Their faces were mere inches apart. Dean could feel Sam's breath on his face.

Dean felt the same need. He was just about to throw Sam on the bed and have his way with him. He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again. Nothing changed. Sam was still there, clinging onto him. Close, so close …

Without even thinking, Dean bridged the distance and his mouth crashed against Sam's. He kissed him like there was no tomorrow. His hands found their way into Sam's hair and all air and ability to think were taken from Dean. The kiss was hot, messy, hungry and desperate. In a clear moment and shock, Dean pulled away, staring at Sam in the darkness of the room.

"I … okay, time for bed, Sammy," was all he managed to say. Sam's face changed. Still drunk, he seemed content with getting his way. For now.

Without answering anything, Sam crashed onto the bed and almost instantly fell asleep. Dean just sat there, looking at him, let a hand slide through his hair, unable to stop thinking and shake off the kiss. He was shocked and disgusted with himself. Sammy was intoxicated and he had taken full advantage of it.

Unlike Sam, with the alcoholic bliss, Dean had a hard time sleeping that night. Haunted by the fateful kiss, he tossed and turned in a light, fragile slumber. Somehow he did manage to finally fall asleep at the first rays of dawn.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he opened his eyes again, it must have been around noon. He glanced over to Sammy, who was still sleeping on his stomach.

Dean sat up, stretched and suddenly all the images from the night before rained down on him. Sam, the need, the kiss. Dean swallowed.

He got up, went over to Sam's bed and carefully sat down beside him. He gently caressed Sam's hair, brushing strands of it from Sam's forehead. Then he bent down and kissed Sam's temple. Sam hummed underneath the touch.

"Rise and shine, Sammy," Dean gently said.

Sam opened one eye, peeked at Dean and smiled. "Good morning."

"Good morning." Dean prayed that he didn't remember what happened the night before. 

Sam closed his eye again and lazily slurred "So, where were we last night?"

Dean brushed with his hand over his lips. "You can't be serious."  
Sam turned around on his back and seriously looked at Dean. "Oh, but I am," he said, fully awake.

"Sam, what happened yesterday shouldn't have happened. It's not normal."

"Since when are we normal?" asked Sam. "And don't tell me you didn't enjoy it, too."

Dean swallowed. "I did." The answer came way too quickly and automatically. 

Sam sat up and scooted closer to Dean. He placed his uninjured hand on Dean's cheek.

"I love you," he gently said.

Dean just looked at him. He loved him, too, God knows. Looking into Sammy's eyes, he felt helpless. 

"Dean, Dean, shh, it's okay," Sammy kept chanting. "Just … kiss me."

In one last, helpless attempt, Dean tried to get away from Sam's touch, but Sam wouldn't let go.

Dean looked at him again. Suddenly, all the memories flooded his mind. From the first day he loved baby Sammy, to the fire, to the endless nights on the road, to their fights and reconciliations, the illicit implications from others that they were lovers, from the looks and touches and the many little beautiful moments along the ride. Whatever he tried to tell himself, it all came down to this: They had always been more than brothers and he needed Sam so much that it hurt. He didn't know anymore how he survived the time they were separated when Sam went to Stanford. That was probably all he did at that time: Survive, not live.

Everything, his defence came crashing down and finally, with Sam's allowance, he lay his lips on the younger man. This kiss was so different from the one the night before. It was gentle and loving and caressing and exploring. Sam scooted closer and yearningly kissed him back.

Dean pulled away, then looked at him. He kissed Sam's hair, Sam's temple and forehead.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked his little brother.

Sam smiled and blushed. "I'd really rather not. There are so many beautiful things one can do with one's mouth instead."

And with it, he pulled Dean down on the bed and on top of him.

Dean just let go.


End file.
